


Learn To Listen

by rosesofred



Series: Prodigal Brat [3]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Discipline, Domestic Discipline, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Sexual, OTK, Over the Knee, Punishment, Spanking, Time Out, corner time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21743818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesofred/pseuds/rosesofred
Summary: Malcolm just can’t listen, can he? Warning: spanking!
Series: Prodigal Brat [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1566229
Comments: 9
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So as usual it’s midnight and here I am obsessed with this show. I think this may have happened before the previous part I wrote, so it may be out of order but whatever. Basically Malcolm earned himself a spanking! Enjoy!

Malcolm was especially hyper today, a hop in his step that wasn’t there before. Gil had tried telling him to go home, that there wasn’t anything for him to work on, but the boy insisted. “Would you believe that homicide is the only thing keeping me sane?” The room fell silent and Malcolm looked around, suddenly very aware of how wrong that sounded. “Solving it, not doing it,” he explained. He avoided eye contact, face burning at being suddenly noticed by the entire police department.

“You heard me, Malcolm. Go home.”

“But Gil-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned. His hands went to his hips, a grim look on his face. His son was obviously not doing well, the boy’s exhausted features were testament to that. 

Malcolm rolled his eyes, unaware of how close to the line he was dancing. “There’s got to be something,” he tried. Taking note of the eye roll but deciding to put it on the backburner, Gil sighed. Just then JT and Dani walked by, commenting on how awful he looked. “Where are they going?” he asked excitedly, pointing after the detectives. 

“Not for you,” Gil said with a sense of finality.

Malcolm glared at him, a look of defiance in his tired eyes. From Gil’s point of view the man looked like a pouty teenager trying to get his way. “Let me come along. You won’t even notice me.”

“No, Malcolm. Do as you’re told.” Gil was growing tired of this argument, very close to deciding his son needed discipline. But if he was going to act like a defiant brat than the lieutenant was ready to deal with that.

“I’m not a kid, Gil!”

“Fine,” the older man sighed, shaking his head. He took Malcolm by the arm, leading him through the police station to his office. Once inside, Gil locked the door and began shutting all the blinds, much to Malcolm’s growing concern.

“What are you doing?” he asked, clenching and unclenching his fist. 

“What does it look like I’m doing? We’re going to have a discussion, city boy.”

Panicking now, Malcolm went for the door only to find it locked with no chance of escape. Shaking the handle, the boy kicked the door in frustration.

“Cool it, or do you want to let the whole station know?” 

Paling at the prospect, Malcolm turned towards his mentor and swallowed. “You can’t, not here!”

“I can, and it’s happening. You’ve been asking for it since you came in.” Folding his arms, Gil gave his son a stern look as the conversation got more serious. “You been sleeping?”

“Yes,” he lied. His hand began shaking then and Malcolm threw it behind his back, not wanting his secret to be found out.

Gil only gave him a knowing look, disappointed at seeing his adopted son was lying again. “Have you eaten today?” Malcolm nodded his head, his throat suddenly very dry. “Well you look great,” he said sarcastically. The younger man rolled his eyes again, knowing his mentor had found him out. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Freezing again, Malcolm shook his head no. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What’s with the attitude?”

“I don’t have an attitude,” he replied poisonously.

“Oh I think you do. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” the consultant said snidely.

Nodding his head in understanding, Gil walked the short distance to his son, grabbing him by the arm. “If that’s how you want to act, fine.” Pulling away, Malcolm dug his heels into the carpet as his mentor tugged him along. Stopping at the edge of the room, Gil positioned Malcolm so he was facing the corner, his nose touching the wall.

“Wha-” Malcolm turned to look as his father figure, confusion clear in his knit eyebrows.

“You’re going to stay here until I say you can come out, understand?”

“Gil, no!” Malcolm backed away from the corner, his fists clenched again. “I’m not a child!”

“Well you’re certainly acting like one,” Arroyo commented. Taking Malcolm by the arm again, he shoved the boy back into the corner, determined to get through to him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

Glaring at his mentor, Malcolm said with venom, “If you think I’m standing in the corner like some naughty child, you’re crazy.”

“You are a naughty child, Malcolm. And if you don’t want to stand in the corner, that’s fine too. You can stand in the corner after I tan your backside.” Malcolm opened and shut his mouth, his jaw tensing in frustration. “You’ve got ten minutes. Come out of that corner and you’re going right over my knee,” Gil warned. Finally nodding his head in understanding, Malcolm rested his forehead against the wall. 

At least the boy seemed to be accepting his punishment, Gil thought. He went back over to his desk, sitting behind it to work on some paperwork. He set a timer on his phone, keeping a watchful eye on the boy while he worked. He couldn’t help but notice how his son’s shoulders slumped, the way he held himself like a kicked puppy. Today was not a good day for the consultant but Gil knew he had to fulfill his duty as the boy’s mentor. Without guidance and discipline, Malcolm would spiral out of control and probably get himself killed, something Arroyo couldn’t bare thinking about.

His timer going off, Gil straightened up his desk in preparation for the coming event. “Alright, Malcolm. Come here.”

Turning to face him, Bright shook his head no, backing himself up against the wall. “Please not here,” he begged.

“Too bad, Bright. You need this and I think you know that.”

“I don’t need this! This is ridiculous!” Malcolm’s foot stamped on the ground, his temper getting the best of him.

“Keep it up, Malcolm. If you want to make it worse for yourself, go right ahead.”

“You can’t do this,” he tried.

“Do I need to come and get you? Or are you going to do as I told you and come here?”

Malcolm threw his hands down in frustration, his lack of control in the situation making him angry. When Gil took a step towards him, the consultant’s hands flew up in front of him in defense and he quickly made his way to the other side of the room, backing himself into another corner. “You can’t, please! Gil, please!” Not watching where he was going, Malcolm tripped over the garbage can and fell backwards, landing hard on his backside. 

Taking the opportunity for what it was, Gil helped the boy up and dragged him over to the desk, a death grip on his bicep. “Are you alright?” he asked as he turned the boy to face him. Nodding his head, Malcolm’s eyes were pouty and big, no doubt his attempt to persuade the older man. “Come on, let's get this over with.” Gil lifted his leg and rested it on the seat of the chair in front of his desk, eliciting a very confused look from his son.

“What are you-” before Malcolm could get out the rest of his sentence, he found himself hoisted up and thrown across his mentor’s lifted knee. Shrieking in surprise and embarrassment, Malcolm scrambled for balance, grabbing onto his mentor’s ankle for support. His feet were far off the floor and the position made him feel all of 5 years old again. “No no no no,” he protested, though no amount of struggling was helping. Gil had one arm wrapped around his son’s waist, the other resting against his backside, a warning to what was coming.

“You ready?”

“NO!” he shouted, his face burning red. “Let me go, you can’t! Not here, please I’ll do anything else!”

Gil’s hand came down hard over the young man’s backside, the sound of it echoing through the quiet room. Malcolm tensed in pain, horribly aware of how loud it was. He just hoped to god that nobody in the police station would be able to hear his punishment. The consultant bit his lip, his shaking hand a reminder of why this was happening. “They won’t be able to hear this,” Gil reassured as his hand came down again. “But they will be able to hear you if you make a lot of noise.” It was reassuring but also horrifying, knowing that he’d have to keep quiet or else risk the public humiliation. 

Arroyo’s hand came down over and over, hard and unfaltering. He was so worried about his son, knew that the boy wasn’t ok. But how long had he been not ok, had been holding in all those awful feelings? His son was squirming back and forth now, desperately trying to get out of the line of fire but Gil’s hand found its target every time. No amount of struggling was going to deter him from giving his son this much needed discipline. Even if it did make his heart hurt, seeing the boy in pain that he was causing. Taking a moment, Arroyo lifted up Malcolm’s coat, bunching it up against the man’s back so he could hit his target easier. “Please,” the consultant whined, shifting his hips again.

“I don’t think so, we’re not even close to being finished.” Landing even harder swats to his son’s backside, Malcolm let out a yelp of surprise.

“No,” he whispered, wishing it was over and done with. Malcolm tried to slip off his mentor’s knee, using his body weight to throw off the balance. But Gil was prepared, knew he’d try something, and simply readjusted him. He grabbed the boy by his belt, lifting his hips up to reposition him across his knee. His face burning with shame, Malcolm let out a soft whine, wrapping an arm around his mentor’s leg as the slaps got harder.

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself, Malcolm” the older man lectured. Getting only silence in return, Gil took a moment to shake out the sting in his hand. “This reckless attitude is going to stop right now.” Reaching under the boy to undo his belt, Malcolm panicked and bucked his body, anxiety tight in his chest.

“No!” Malcolm reached back, holding onto his pants to keep them up.

“Malcolm, what did I say would happen if you reached back?”

Pausing only for a moment, the boy swallowed and shook his head. “Please no, let me keep them up.”

“Give me one good reason,” Gil offered.

“Because I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m fine,” the consultant lied.

Sighing, Gil used his strength to rip the pants down, Malcolm’s hands losing his grip in surprise.

“You do not lie to me,” Gil lectured, hand slapping down angrily. 

“I’m not lying!” the boy cried. He kicked his legs back and forth, back arching in pain. “Please, I’m fine! Can’t we talk about this?”

Realizing that his son was making quite a racket, Gil actually considered it. Maybe he should let the boy calm down some before they continued. Slowing his hand, Gil lifted the younger man up by the hips, lowering him down to his feet in front of him. A look of utter surprise painted across his face, Malcolm’s hand shot back to rub the sting out of his backside. A small smile quirked at the edge of Gil’s mouth but he kept his stern scowl in place. “Go stand in the corner, Malcolm,” he ordered.

“Again? Why!” Malcolm’s eyebrows were knit in frustration, his big puppy dog eyes filled with tears that hadn’t fallen yet.

“Because at this rate you’re going to let the whole block know you’re getting a spanking. You need to calm down.”

Grunting in frustration, Malcolm reached down for his pants but Gil stopped him.

“I don’t think so, those stay down.”

“But Gil,” he whined. Receiving a hard look, Malcolm looked down at the floor, shoulders slumping. “Ok.” He walked over to the corner, trying not to trip over the pants at his knees.

“You can stay there until you think you’re ready,” Arroyo ordered. The lieutenant watched his son carefully, leaning up against his desk with his arms folded across his chest. He hated to do this, to be the cause of so much pain, but the man knew that Bright would benefit from it. That if he didn’t step in now, that boy was going to spiral himself to death. And there was no way in hell the lieutenant was going to let that happen.

A few minutes passed of Malcolm shifting uncomfortably, occasionally rubbing at the sore skin before he stole a glance back behind him. “Gil?”

“Yeah?” Arroyo’s eyes softened at seeing the cautious look on his son’s face.

“Can I come out now?”

“If you think you’re ready,” Gil reassured. As Malcolm made his way back over, Gil lifted his leg again, reaching a hand out to his son.

“Do you have to do it this way? Can’t I be-” Malcolm blushed at saying this, looking down at the floor. “Over your lap?”

“This is the way it’s happening, Malcolm.” He grabbed ahold of his son, lifting him once again to lie over his knee. Moving his jacket out of the way, Gil made quick work of reddening his son’s backside. It was strange, but having the boy over his knee this way, the older man really took notice of how small he was. Of just how fragile the man was, and how slight his frame was. How he fit so perfectly over just one knee, because there was nothing to him. The consultant was all skin and bones, no meat on him at all. “Do you know why you’re getting spanked?”

There was that word again, Malcolm thought. That dreaded word. Gasping at an especially hard slap, Bright lifted his head to answer. “Because I’m not taking care of myself?”

“Yes, what else?”

“I don’t know, because you want to?” the answer came out more sarcastic than he meant but there was no taking it back now.

Gil quickly tugged the boy’s underwear down, exposing the hot skin to be more thoroughly chastised. “I don’t enjoy doing this, you know that. You think I want to cause you pain?” Gil moved to his sit spots now, his hand unrelenting. “I love you like a son, I do this because I care.”

“Ok, ok!” Malcolm grabbed onto the fabric of his mentor’s pants, clenching it tightly in his fists. “I’m sorry, I know!”

“Want to try that again?” the older man returned to smacking the center of his rear, aware of how loud the boy was getting.

“I lied to you,” Malcolm admitted. He sniffled, no doubt holding back a well of tears.

“Good, now can you tell me again why that’s wrong?”

Malcolm groaned but tried to keep his overwhelming sass to a minimum. “Because nobody will trust me if lie, we’re a team, you care about me,” he drolled.

“Good.” Gil stopped to rub the sting out, his hand gentle on the abused skin. “And why do you need to take care of yourself and listen to me when I tell you no?”

“Because you care about me?”

“There you go,” Gil smiled. He took a moment to pull up the boy’s underwear and pants, patting him on the back to let him know it was finished.

Malcolm was a bit surprised if he was being honest, he’d expected a worse punishment, but he wasn’t complaining. He lowered himself from his mentor’s knee, wiping at his eyes as he stood before him. “We’re done?”

“Not quite,” Arroyo admitted. Malcolm groaned but the man decided to ignore it. He gathered his son in a hug, one hand going to hold the back of the boy’s head affectionately. “I’m coming over tonight to finish your punishment.”

Pulling out of the hug, Malcolm shot him an angry look. “Why!?”

“Because smacking you with a ruler would be too loud for a police station. Unless you want me to do it here?” 

Paling at the thought, Bright shook his head no. “No, please.”

“That’s what I thought. So I expect to find you in your loft tonight by seven. Is that clear?”

Nodding his head with dread, Malcolm subconsciously reached behind him to guard his backside with his hands. “Yes.”

Gil smiled at his son, pulling him back into a hug. “You ready to face the police station now?”

His face going red, Malcolm realized suddenly that people may have been able to hear him yelling. “Oh god,” he whispered, shoulders tensing. 

“I’ll walk you out, don’t worry.” Changing position, Gil rested his hand on the boys neck as he led him to the door. Unlocking it, Gil pushed his son through the door, walking out behind him. A few people looked over their way but Malcolm was relieved to find nobody gawking at them. Until he walked past one officer’s desk and found the lady smirking at him knowingly. Had she heard? Bright lowered his head, falling back to follow Gil out the entrance. “So what are you going to do?” Gil questioned.

“Go straight home and wait for you?”

“Good,” Arroyo smiled. He patted the boy on the back, proud of his son’s progress. “I’ll see you tonight.”


	2. As Promised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, Gil comes to Malcolm's loft to finish his punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So your girl actually got some sleep?? I've never really written a fanfic on a full 8 hours of sleep so this might be a weird one, idk. Anyways, please enjoy and if you liked it please comment!

Pulling up to his son’s apartment, Gil sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to punishing his son again but he knew he had to, that it wasn’t much of a choice. He’d promised to come by and a promise was a promise. Bailing now or letting the boy off easy would just make Malcolm question his authority and probably spiral again. Squinting to get a better look, Gil leaned forward in his seat to look at the man approaching the boy’s loft. Was that… Malcolm? Realizing that it was, Gil opened his door and grabbed the ruler from his passenger seat, a heavy feeling in his chest.

He watched as the boy walked past the front door, stopped and turned back to face it. Then he took a step forward, before stopping again and wringing out his hands. This made Gil smile as he realized what was happening. His son had tried to run, to avoid his punishment but made the conscious choice to come back and take his punishment. He was just having cold feet, a hard time deciding to enter his apartment and wait like he’d been told. Arroyo waited, leaning up against his car to see the situation unfold before him. He checked his watch, 6:55. He’d give the young man 5 more minutes before approaching, see if he made the right choice.

Malcolm began pacing, walking back and forth from one side of the sidewalk to the other, obviously torn between running or staying. Finally he walked back to the door, hands clenched into fists and stood there for a moment. Taking this as his cue to approach, Gil walked across the street, being careful not to startle the boy. “I’m proud of you, Malcolm.”

Bright’s head snapped up to look at him, his eyes wide and puppy-like. “You’re here,” he commented.

“Nothing gets past you,” Arroyo smiled. “Come on, lets go inside.”

Unlocking the door with shaky hands, Malcolm showed the man in, stopping to stand still once he was inside his apartment. Clearing his throat, he said in his most confident voice, “Can I make you a drink?”

“I don’t think so,” Gil answered. “We should get this over with, don’t you think?”

“Can’t we… can’t we talk first?”

“Alright, what do you have to say?” Gil folded his arms, making Malcolm very aware of the ruler he held in his left hand.

Eyes bugging out at the sight of it, Bright bit his lip, his anxiety beginning to boil up. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “But you already punished me, in your office.”

“You think that was enough?”

“Yes! I mean, it was lighter than normal, but you did- I did- I mean, it’s already done!” Malcolm took a step back, unaware of his posture becoming timid.

“So you don’t feel guilty,” Gil noted.

“No, I do-”

“Then the spanking wasn’t enough.” Arroyo took a step forward, his demeanor confident.

There was that horrible word. Malcolm felt a blush forming and tightened his fists. “It was!”

“What was?” Another step.

“The- you know, the punishment. It was enough.”

“Not if you still feel guilty. Wouldn’t you like to be forgiven?” Closer now.

“Of course, I just-” how had Gil gotten so close? Malcolm felt his heartbeat quicken, panic shooting through him. He turned to run but felt Gil’s hand clamp over his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Don’t run from me,” Gil ordered. 

“I’m not, I just- can’t this be enough?” Malcolm tried to pull away from the man but Gil held him firmly in place. “Do you have to?”

“I was proud of you for coming back after you ran, don’t make me change my mind.”

A heavy feeling filled Malcolm’s gut at that thought, that his mentor would be disappointed in him. Swallowing hard, Bright straightened his back, standing up tall. 

“Are you going to behave?” Gil wasn’t so sure about etting the boy go but he wanted to have some faith in him.

Nodding his head, Malcolm spoke in a small voice, “yes.”

“Good.” Gil walked over to the couch, sitting down in the center of it. “Come here,” he ordered. Malcolm walked slowly over to him, stopping just in front of him. “Take your pants down.”

“What? Gil, no!”

“You heard me. The pants are coming down.”

“But-”

“I know you can do it.” 

Taking a deep breath, Bright stared hard at the floor. He wanted to make his mentor proud, but taking down his own pants? He hated having them lowered during his punishments, this was humiliating! But Gil trusted him to do what he was told, and he didn’t want to make the man regret his decision. Plus being manhandled if he didn’t obey seemed far worse than being allowed to do it himself. His hands shaking, Malcolm slowly undid in belt, taking his time in unzipping his pants. With one determined move, he shoved his pants down to rest at his knees, hands in angry fists at his side.

“Good.” Gil moved back, making room for Malcolm to lie himself over his lap. “You know what’s next.

A deep blush covered Bright’s face and he bit his lip hard. Gil noticed and took note of it, wondering how long ago Malcolm had started doing that. It wasn’t normal for the boy to bite his lip, he hoped he didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood. “Please, can’t you-...” Malcolm shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“You want me to put you over my knee?”

“No!” Malcolm took a step back, grabbing at his pants to pull them back up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Malcolm. You try to run from this and I’m spanking you bare. But if you come here, you get to keep your underwear on. Deal?”

Stopping half way, Bright stared at his mentor, seriously considering his offer. He knew that if he ran, Gil would no doubt track him down and probably give him a punishment twice as bad. So what could he do? The idea of being allowed the dignity of his underwear seemed appealing but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He took a cautious step forward, standing at his mentor’s side, and looked down at his lap. He just had to lower himself down, take his punishment like a good son. Could he? Malcolm leaned forward but stopped again, stepping back once more as his anxiety built. 

“I can’t,” the consultant tried.

“You can,” Gil corrected.

Sighing and rubbing a hand across his tired face, Malcolm built up his nerve, pushing down his anxiety. “I can do this,” he said to himself. Gil smiled at hearing the boy encourage himself, proud beyond measure at how far he’d come. A few months ago if he’d tried to get Malcolm to do this the boy would be miles away, having run from his punishment. In one quick move the boy suddenly flung himself down, landing hard across his mentor’s knees. It almost startled Gil but he didn’t show it. The lieutenant rested a warm hand on the boy’s back, rubbing gently.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said affectionately.

Grunting in annoyance, Malcolm readjusted himself, very uncomfortable in this position. “Just get it over with.”

Nodding his head in understanding, Gil lifted the ruler, tapping it a few times on the boy’s backside. It made the younger man flinch but neither one commented on it. “I’m giving you twenty five.” He snapped it down, making Malcolm jolt and let out a yelp that didn’t sound much different from a kicked puppy. Gil brought it down again, harder than before and watched as Malcolm squirmed across his lap. This was going to be a hard punishment for him, he could tell.

Arroyo lifted it again, higher in the air, and brought it down with a resounding thwack. The lieutenant imagined it hurt about as bad as it sounded. But Malcolm said nothing, instead shifting his hips and crossing his legs to cope with the sting. Gil brought it down five times in quick succession until the boy let out a muffled cry, trying in vain to keep quiet. “You can be loud if you need to, Malcolm. Let it all out.” He rubbed the boy’s back as he said this, noticing how tense his son’s shoulders were. 

He brought the ruler down two more times before Malcolm’s hands shot back, stopping at his thighs for a moment before bringing them back to his front.

“Do I need to restrain your arms?” He expected an answer from Malcolm but all he got was a shake of the head. Feeling something was wrong, Gil leaned forward to look at his face and was horrified to see blood trickling down the boy’s chin. “Malcolm!” Arroyo threw the ruler down, grabbing his son’s jaw in one hand and using the other to make him stop biting his lip. “Stop it,” he ordered, making the boy let go of his abused lip. Gil guided the boy to stand up, holding him in place between his knees. “Let me see.” He examined his lip, upset to find that the boy had split it open with his teeth. Arroyo gave him a long, hard look before waving a finger in his face, scolding. “Do I need to make you wear your mouth guard?” Malcolm shook his his vehemently. “Then don’t bite your lip. No biting. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” Bright said with pouty eyes.

“Good.” He grabbed Malcolm by the arm, lowering him across his left knee to continue the spanking. “I’m giving you five more for that.”

“No, Gil!”

“Don’t argue with me young man, you’re on thin ice.” Gil grabbed the ruler again, bringing it down hard on the boy’s backside. Malcolm squirmed, his hands going for one of the pillows on the couch. Another blow landed and Bright hid his head under the pillow like an ostrich. “You don’t bite your lip,” Arroyo scolded. “You listen to me when I tell you no,” another two hits on his sit spots. “You don’t lie to me or to anyone else for that matter.”

“Ok!” Malcolm barked, muffled by the pillow and couch. Gil gave him five more, all over his backside, the younger man tensing and squirming like a worm in the sun. 

“You want to tell me why you’re here?” Another 3 blows, all in the same spot.

“No lying!” Another hard smack with the dreaded ruler. “Listen to you,” Malcolm threw the pillow across the room, grunting in frustration. “No biting!” Gil brought it down three more times, repeating the pattern.

“Good. And why is that wrong?”

Malcolm bucked his hips, throwing his hands back to guard his backside. “No more! Please I don’t want to do this again!”

Sighing, Gil grabbed the boy’s hand by the wrist, resting the ruler on his palm. “You don’t reach back, son.” Arroyo snapped the ruler down, a horrible yelp escaping Malcolm’s lips as he scrunched up in pain. Malcolm beat his free hand against the couch, kicking his feet back and forth in anger. “You going to throw a tantrum now?”

“No!” Malcolm cried.

“Then I suggest you stop, unless you want corner time.” He released the boy’s hand, resting the ruler against his posterior again. “You’ve only got four more. Now why is doing all of that bad?” 

“Because nobody will trust me, I need to trust you, and I can’t be reckless.”

“Good.” Gil brought the ruler down four times on Malcolms sit spot, making the boy squirm and struggle in pain. “We’re all done,” Gil soothed. He put the ruler down beside him, rubbing a hand across the boy’s back in comfort. Grabbing onto the boy’s underpants, Malcolm hollered in surprise, twisting his body and reaching back to stop him. “Malcolm, let go. I need to check the damage.”

“No, you said I could keep them up!”

“For the punishment,” Gil explained. “Now let go or I’m giving you five more.”

Malcolm frowned at him, though Gil was happy to see no more fresh blood coming from his lip. “No, you don’t need to check!”

“I have to make sure I didn’t really hurt you.” Gil tried to tug them down but Malcolm had a death grip on his boxers. Sighing softly, Gil let go and reached for the ruler, causing Malcolm to panic.

“No! No no, you said it was done!”

“Let go or I’m using this on you,” Gil ordered. He rested it against the boy’s hot backside in warning, steeling himself to punish the boy further.

A long moment passed before Malcolm finally let go, slowly bringing his hands to rest in front of him. Glad that the boy had finally listened to him, Gil carefully lowered the young man’s boxers to join his pants. The consultant’s backside was a deep red, stripes here and there from where Gil had hit him in succession. Otherwise it didn’t look like any lasting damage was present, and for that Arroyo was thankful. Seriously hurting his son was the last thing he ever wanted to do, even if it was by accident.

“Alright, thankyou,” Gil said calmly. He pulled up the man’s underwear and pants, helping him fix his clothing before guiding him to stand up. “I am proud of you, Malcolm. You took that well.”

Bright looked up at him through his eyelashes, a sad look on his young face. “It’s not happening again,” he informed.

“I guess we’ll see,” Gil agreed. He stood up, arms open wide as he gathered his son into a hug. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”

“I can do it myself, Gil,” Malcolm said sharply.

“Watch the attitude, kid.” Arroyo smiled as he felt Malcolm rest his head against his shoulder, glad to have the whole ordeal over with. If only he could get his son to listen to him, he wouldn’t have to keep punishing him. But knowing Malcolm, Gil was sure there was a lot more of those to come.


End file.
